


First Meeting

by Suolainensilakka



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Animated (2007)
Genre: First Meeting, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Major Original Character(s), Original Character(s), Original Character-centric, featuring sentinel being his usual bastard self, havent uploaded in a while oops, heres some more fluffy oc shipping for yall, post-war Cybertron
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-18
Updated: 2019-02-18
Packaged: 2019-10-30 22:09:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17837051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Suolainensilakka/pseuds/Suolainensilakka
Summary: Duster still didn't know what exactly made him think that attempting to join Cybertron's Elite Guard academy was a good idea in the slightest, but oh well, he was here now.He supposed he was lucky to have met his future sparkmate there.





	First Meeting

**Author's Note:**

> I return from an unannounced hiatus and I bring you Gay
> 
> gdfhgsdg I wrote another oc blurb for a friend, please enjoy

_ This was a really, really,  _ **_really_ ** _ bad idea _ , Duster thought to himself as he shuffled from one pede to another, trying his hardest to blend in and stamp down his nervousness as Sentinel Prime marched in front of the group of soon-to-be Elite Guard cadets, scrutinizing each and every bot with trained precision and likely gauging whether or not they were worthy of recruiting officially.

 

“And what do you do?” he heard the Prime’s voice say, and tried to refrain from wincing. He wasn’t really  _ yelling _ , per se, not even close, but the volume was still enough to make Duster cringe. The mech being questioned chuffed with laughter, but the much smaller minibot couldn’t see him properly from behind the mass of armored pedes blocking his view to the left.

 

“Gimme a target and I’ll show ya,” the mech replied with an audible grin. Sentinel’s optics narrowed at the informal language but he didn’t comment further, instead pointing towards the row of blandly painted training dummies standing behind him, stepping aside.

 

“Alright then, knock yourself out.” He was clearly skeptical, but there was a small glimmer of curiosity in his optics as he watched the newcomer step forward with confidence.

 

Duster leaned over to get a better look, only barely managing to catch a glimpse of a light brown and green mech before he suddenly launched forward with almost frightening speed and collided with the closest dummy, shattering it into near-symmetrical splinters that exploded outwards and sent all nearby mechs jumping backwards with surprised yells. The mech paid them no mind, instead whirling towards his next target and obliterating it in a similar manner. One was split in half with a single kick, another was sent flying several dozen feet into the air, and all the remaining ones were taken out so fast Duster’s optics almost hurt while trying to keep up with the bot’s incredible swiftness.

 

The mech finished his mock battle with a victorious whoop, turning to face his audience with his arms spread outwards and frame physically radiating heat from exertion. He paused for a moment before speaking, huffing as his frame struggled to cool down, but it was clear from the look on his face that he was quite proud of himself.

 

“How’s that for a demonstration?” he asked, grinning. There was a beat of silence as Sentinel simply blinked in response, before brushing a few stray flecks of debris from his shoulder with a short hum.

 

“Quite impressive,” he said, voice slightly strained from annoyance at the mess scattered about, but nonetheless still pleased. “What’s your name, soldier?” he then barked sharply, and the bot in question let out a short laugh.

 

“Name’s Breakbrawl.” He paused for a moment, flexing his arm cables in an almost comically exaggerated manner before continuing, “Sorry ‘bout the mess, by the way. Things kinda tend to go boom when I’m around.” Breakbrawl then chuckled at his own little joke, shoulders shaking and teal headlights flashing briefly.

 

“... Alright then, Breakbrawl, you’re in,” Sentinel replied after a pause, his trademark smirk settling back on his face as he gestured for the bot to step back into the line. Breakbrawl let out another joyful whoop, practically leaping into the group and moving to stand on his previous place with newfound energy and brightly glowing optics.

 

Duster had been watching the performance in almost complete silence, utterly captivated by the mech’s movements and the almost physically tangible confidence rolling off his shoulders in waves, and for a moment he’d almost forgotten  _ why _ he was here in the first place. His earlier nervousness came crashing back in when Sentinel snapped back into drill sergeant mode, asking for each bot’s designation and function as he gradually moved closer and closer to Duster. The brown minibot briefly considered hiding behind one of the taller mechs, but immediately - albeit reluctantly - shook the idea away.  _ You’re here now, you’ve come this far, you’ve put in too much effort to give up now. Stay calm. _

 

Sentinel’s pedesteps grew closer. Duster tensed. His audials were online and perfectly functional but seemingly refused to process any noise filtered through beyond unintelligible muttering, and his spark hammered against its chamber with almost enough strength to visibly shine through its protective casing -  _ calm down, you’re not going to die, just stop panicking _ \- and Duster fought against the urge to bolt with all his might. Then, finally, after an agonizingly long ten minutes, Sentinel stopped in front of him and turned to look. The Prime’s stern expression briefly twisted into confusion after seeing no one there, and Duster - trying hard not to let his internal screaming physically spill out of his vocalizer - cleared his throat and waved a servo nervously.

 

“D-down here, sir!” he croaked, wincing slightly at the spontaneous voice crack. Sentinel nearly jumped in surprise before swiveling his helm towards the voice, and a wide, amused smirk appeared on his face. Leaning down towards Duster, he folded his arms behind him and tilted his helm slightly to the side, as if talking to a lost sparkling who had wandered too far from its guardians.

 

“And who are  _ you _ , then?” he asked, clearly unimpressed. His tone sounded almost condescending, sending another wave of fear dancing through Duster’s spark.

 

“I... “ the minibot began, before pausing to clear his throat again and looking back up at Sentinel. “M-my name is Duster, sir.” A raised eyebrow was his only response for a moment.

 

“... Alright. What’s your specialty?”

 

“My--” Oh.  _ Oh. _ Duster’s optics nervously flicked to look at the mechs around him - all had their optics trained on him and him alone, all understandably curious - and suddenly Duster realized just  _ how _ awful his idea to come here had been. He didn’t  _ have _ any special abilities or strengths that he could name. Not any he knew about, at least - it was becoming glaringly obvious that Sentinel, however, was  _ very _ keen on knowing.

 

“Well?” the blue mech prodded impatiently, and Duster swallowed nervously.

 

“I-- uh--”

 

“Drawing attention away from teammates and distracting enemies, then. Got it,” Sentinel suddenly interrupted, grin widening even further. Duster’s vents sputtered, belching out clouds of soot in surprise.

 

“W--” he coughed, squinting slightly. “What?”

 

Sentinel’s optics narrowed marginally, adding a vaguely hostile edge to his already condescending expression.

 

“You heard me. It’s obvious you don’t have a lick of fighting spirit in you, and judging by that flimsy, paper-thin excuse for armor you’re wearing you wouldn’t last a nanosecond in a real, up-close fight with a Decepticon.” He leaned even further in, forcing Duster to take a nervous step backwards with his audial fins pinned tight against his helm, and jabbed a digit towards the minibot’s chest where his spark was rapidly pulsing within its glass casing. “And  _ that _ might as well turn you into a big, red, screaming target with the words “shoot me” painted on. Honestly, it’s a miracle cleaning models like you are even allowed to  _ apply _ .” Slowly, with an infuriatingly smug air clinging to him, Sentinel rose up and turned away, seemingly ready to continue to the next bot. Faint murmurs echoed all around - some sounded concerned, some snide, and it made Duster’s plating rattle faintly in discomfort.

 

“So, am I… am I in…?” he squeaked softly, watching Sentinel pause for a moment before turning his helm to peek at the minibot with a glare.

 

“For the time being, yes. Try not to waste my time too much. This oughta be fun…” he huffed, although Duster could tell the last part was more meant to be a low murmur than a comment directed his way. The Prime then turned away with a dismissive sneer, apparently choosing to ignore Duster from that moment onwards. 

 

It was probably a good thing he did, too. He wasn’t sure how much longer he would last pinned under the Prime’s piercing gaze. Not without completely dissolving into a coughing, anxious mess, anyways. The fact that he had actually managed to get into the training program helped in softening the blow, but his joy was still vastly overshadowed by the obviously mocking way Sentinel had delivered the news - he just had to hope he could keep his calm for the rest of the training program, too.

 

“Well then, folks, it seems like you’ve all been - for the better of worse - accepted officially. Make no mistake, this does  _ not _ mean that I’ll be going easy on you.” Sentinel’s gaze hovered over the group, optics narrowed. “ _ Any  _ of you.” Duster could hear some of the new cadets shuffling around nervously, too intimidated to talk. He couldn’t blame them, really.

 

“Now, since this particular training area is currently… “ the Prime began, before pausing and gesturing to the destroyed remains of the training dummies behind him, “...  _ inoperable _ , we’ll be using the one further north until this mess is taken care of.”

 

Ah. Duster had a sinking feeling he knew what Sentinel was implying. 

 

“You, over there. Duster. You’ll clean this up while we begin.”

 

Yep. Knew it.

 

Duster repressed the urge to sigh out loud, before nodding firmly. “Yes, sir.”

 

“Good.” Sentinel flashed another - insincere - smile his way, before turning around to address his troops. “Alright, off you go now,” he barked sharply, and a chorus of loud “yes sir”s met Duster’s audials before the group trotted off with thundering pedesteps, and left the brown minibot standing alone on the clearing.

 

“Wow. Tough luck.”

 

… Well,  _ almost _ alone.

 

Duster’s helm fins twitched towards the noise and he turned to look at the source of the voice, seeing a slender, dark silver and green mech - Shutdown, he recalled from the earlier demonstrations - standing a few feet away with a sly grin, leaning his weight on one pede and arms crossed. Duster merely raised an eyebrow, silent.

 

“What, not even gonna reply?” Shutdown snorted, visor flashing. Duster simply rolled his optics in annoyance, moving to pick up the nearest piece of discarded rubble on the ground and twisting the shard around in his servos.

 

“Shouldn’t you be somewhere?” he asked dryly, tails twitching idly. He heard Shutdown give a harsh, ringing laugh behind him and tensed, listening as the mech’s pedesteps grew closer.

 

“Yeah, but shouldn’t  _ you _ be somewhere too, I dunno… where you’re actually  _ useful _ ?”

 

Duster’s joints froze, vents sputtering out another cloud of dirt.  _ What…? _

 

“I dunno why they even let you  _ in _ . Like, what are ya gonna do,  _ blind _ the ‘Cons with ultra-polished armor? Dump a bucket of cleaning solvent underneath their pedes to trip them? Face it, you ain’t made to be a warrior.” Shutdown’s words each stung like a sharpened blade cutting into Duster’s armor, each one more vehement than the last -  _ don’t defend yourself, don’t provoke him, stay still _ , the minibot chanted mentally, struggling not to visibly tremble - but it seemed like the green ex-racer wasn’t done yet.

 

“Keep trying,  _ janitor _ , maybe you’ll actually make it to a full week,” he snarled, leaning almost uncomfortably close to Duster’s frame.

 

_ Don’t defend yourself. Don’t defend yourself. Don’t defend yourself. Don’t-- _

 

“ **OI!** Knock it off, chump!”

 

Duster blinked, armor clamping down onto his protoform in surprise.  _ That voice… _

 

Shutdown actually visibly  _ flinched _ , whirling around to look at the mech standing a few feet away with his teal optics narrowed, engine rumbling a low, threatening note.

 

“I mean it. Quit badgering the little guy and haul your aft back to Sentinel’s group before I punt you across the field  _ myself _ ,” Breakbrawl snapped sharply, and Shutdown paused to shoot another nasty glare at Duster before quickly slinking away from Breakbrawl’s piercing gaze, still muttering under his breath what Duster assumed were things he dared not say out loud himself.

 

After the mech’s back vanished from view, Breakbrawl strolled over to where Duster was still paralyzed and crouched down, optics visibly softening.

 

“Hey, fella, you okay?” he asked with an almost shockingly gentle voice, and Duster simply blinked in response before a nervous smile found its way on his face and he gave a tiny laugh.

 

“Y-yeah, I’m fine. Why…” Duster paused to cough out a puff of smoke, grimacing, “... why’d you… help me?” He really couldn’t comprehend why  _ he _ of all bots would deem him worthy of assistance - as much as he hated admitting it, there wasn’t anything special about him. There had never been. So why…

 

“Eh, I just don’t like bullies,” Breakbrawl replied, stretching his neck cables with a faint grunt. For a second Duster thought he saw a veiled look of sadness flash in the mech’s optics, but the cryptic expression was soon gone before he had time to really notice it. Breakbrawl then flicked his optics to look into Duster’s own, and despite the mask covering the lower half of his face they almost gave the impression of a warm smile. Something in Duster’s spark shifted.

 

“Seriously though, you okay? Do I need to kick his aft?” Breakbrawl said, winking playfully.

 

That got a louder, more genuine laugh out of Duster, vents billowing out soot as his shoulders shook.

 

“No, please don’t,” he squeaked quietly, grinning. Breakbrawl gave a chuckle of his own in response, waving an arm through the air in a relaxed manner.

 

“Alright, alright, I won’t.”

 

Duster was just about to reply before a loud shout pierced the air from somewhere behind him, dragging out a frightened gasp from his vocalizer.

 

“Hey! What the  _ pit _ are you still doing here?”

 

Breakbrawl’s armor had flared out like a startled cyber-cat’s at Sentinel’s yell, but he soon smoothed down his plating and turned towards the Prime with a sour look.

 

“I was just making sure Duster’s okay. Is that a problem…” He paused, narrowing his optics. “...  _ sir? _ ”

 

Sentinel glared back, before shaking his helm with an irritated sigh. He paused to glance at Duster, then back at Breakbrawl, scowling.

 

“Well then, if you two are such great  _ buddies _ now, why don’t you clean up this mess together? That oughta teach you some manners, soldier,” he finished with a disapproving mutter, before sharply turning around and marching back to where the rest of the group was in the middle of completing an obstacle course. Duster simply stared for a moment, before looking at the mech next to him with a timid smile.

 

“Jeez, what crawled up  _ his _ tailpipe and died?” he quipped, gently elbowing Breakbrawl’s side with a dull thud. The taller mech simply gave a casual shrug in response.

 

“Beats me,” he replied with an audible grin and a chuff of laughter. He then paused for a moment, picking up a nearby shard of debris and weighing it in his servos with a thoughtful look. His optics flicked up to look at the back of Sentinel’s helm, where he was barking out orders to the cadets, and Breakbrawl’s optics soon gained a mischievous glint. “Say what, Dusty… Should I nick ‘im with this?” he asked, slyly eyeing the Prime before shifting his helm to glance at Duster. The brown minibot burst into a short giggling fit, rapidly shaking his helm with a mildly exasperated look on his face.

 

“ _ Primus, _ no! Don’t!” he chided the larger bot, whose face was glowing with both glee and genuine joy of having made the skittish minibot actually laugh.

 

“Well, if you say so,” he replied, snorting quietly. There was a short, relaxed pause between the two before he then slowly crouched down and started collecting the surrounding debris, quietly humming a cheerful melody Duster didn’t recognize. The minibot then jolted with a faint gasp, suddenly reminded of his original task, and bent down next to Breakbrawl to reach the rubble a bit further away, face glowing blue.

 

Breakbrawl’s optics briefly flicked to look towards Duster with an unreadable but relaxed expression, but he soon returned to work without comment. Duster simply allowed himself to get absorbed in the soothing, repetitive motions of cleaning, replaying the earlier conversation in his memory files and spark only briefly stalling at the realization that Breakbrawl had given him a nickname.

 

… Maybe Elite Guard training wouldn’t be so bad after all.

  
  


\------

  
  


Contrary to Shutdown’s harsh insult on his first day, Duster  _ didn’t _ get kicked out after a week.

 

He managed to last an astounding two and a half weeks before Sentinel seemingly got tired of having to pretend to tolerate his presence, and loudly and gleefully announced Duster’s involuntary exit. The shocked, dumbfounded silence that followed the announcement still haunted Duster to this day as he organized his belongings with automated motions, mouth pulled into a thin line and tails twitching idly. He remembered feeling shock and disappointment, but those feelings still paled when compared to a resigned, tired acceptance. He didn’t expect to last  _ that _ long, but it still stung a little. Duster paused for a moment, looking at his arm pensively - it was probably for the better, anyways. As much as he hated admitting it, Sentinel was right about his unusually thin armor being unsuitable for combat.

 

A sudden but gentle knock to the door in his shared quarters with Breakbrawl broke the silence, and Duster’s armor flared out as he whirled around with a startled yelp. The door slid open and in came a very apologetic-looking Breakbrawl, audial fins pinned back as his optics gave the impression of a grimace.

 

“Sorry, pal, did I startle ya? Didn’t mean to do that, my bad,” the larger mech said, ducking his helm to avoid knocking it against the top of the doorframe as he strode in. Duster merely blinked, still frozen, before smoothing down his armor and waving a servo through the air nonchalantly, chuckling softly.

 

“‘S alright. Training’s over already?” he asked, tilting his helm to the side. Breakbrawl’s expression softened a bit more to his default relaxed look, and he gave a short nod in response.

 

“Yup. That’s… not the  _ only _ reason I’m here, though,” he replied, and Duster raised an eyebrow curiously.

 

“Yeah? Everything alright?”

 

Breakbrawl’s face, though still covered by his mask, almost looked mildly smug. The expression disappeared shortly after, but Duster was already suspicious. The minibot narrowed his optics as Breakbrawl walked further into the room and sat down onto his assigned berth, the metal creaking slightly with the impact, and took a deep breath.

 

“I quit.”

 

Duster’s pistons froze for the second time that day, before his vents soon came back alive through a sputtering, choked squeak of alarm that sent clouds of dirt billowing everywhere around the brown minibot.

 

“ **What?** ” he hissed, optics flying wide open. Breakbrawl waved his servos in a placating manner, expression abashed, before he went on to explain.

 

“Easy, Dusty, easy! Don’t twist your cables into a coil, I’ve made my decision and I ain’t changing it,” he said with a small chuff of laughter. Upon seeing Duster’s still shocked expression, he let out a small sigh. “Look, I just…” he began, idly scratching the back of his neck. “... I dunno. It was really unfair of Sentinel to kick you out, especially in front of everyone like that.” He paused, optics flashing in a smile. “It just didn’t feel right to stay when I got this far this easily and you constantly got bossed around like you were nothing. Which definitely ain’t true,” Breakbrawl added with a huff.

 

Duster listened, silent save for the soft whirring of the gears beneath his protoform. He didn’t know how to respond. Breakbrawl’s expression softened further, and he leaned slightly towards Duster.

 

“B’sides, it just… it wouldn’t feel right without  _ you _ ,” he murmured, voice hushed to the point Duster wouldn’t have recognized him as the same mech who oh-so-gloriously demonstrated his fighting prowess the first time Duster ever saw him if he hadn’t seen this side of him once before. Duster took a small, hesitant step forward, swallowing the lump building at the back of his throat tubing.

 

“Y-you…. you could have become an  _ Elite Guard _ , Brawl. You could have been promoted even further - you could have become a  _ Prime _ , for crying out loud!” he spoke, voice trembling. “You could have become all that - gain the respect of the entire Autobot army, even - and you quit?” Duster felt something prickle at the corners of his optics. “F-for  _ me? _ ”

 

While Duster might have imagined the expression before, now there was absolutely no mistaking of the glow of pride on Breakbrawl’s face as the bot looked at Duster with what may have been the most fondness he had  _ ever _ seen on a mech’s face before this moment. The barest hint of blue glowed on Breakbrawl’s cheeks as the mech chuckled, before a sly grin found its way on his face and his vents blew out a gust of air in a scoff.

 

“Tell ya what, Dusty, they can keep their damn Primes and promotions. Your company is perfectly good ‘nough for me,” Breakbrawl spoke with confident triumph, servo placed on top of his spark chamber to show the sincerity in his words.

 

Duster’s vents gave a small, choked whine he barely managed to stifle, and the minibot broke into a small, nearly hysterical fit of giggles. Breakbrawl looked concerned for a second before Duster quieted down, shoulders still shaking slightly.

 

“That’s…  _ wow _ ,” he finally replied with another muffled snort, grinning. “You…. seriously? That’s like… the  _ nicest _ thing anyone has ever done for me,” Duster murmured softly, and Breakbrawl’s optics shone.

 

“Yeah, well, you deserve all the nice things in the whole world if I had any say in it.” He ignored Duster’s flustered sputtering for a moment before continuing with a grin, “And I’d say you’ve gone through enough scrap in your life as it is.” Breakbrawl paused again, expression softening once more. “Say what, how about we go exploring together? I can get us a small ship, we could just…” he spoke, slowly dragging his opened palm across the air in front of him as if to imitate a starship’s trajectory, “... fly through the cosmos, just you and I, no strict higher-ups bossing us around, no Sentinel to breathe down our necks, no limits or boundaries between us and the galaxy.”

 

Duster listened quietly, helm fins twitching with curiosity as he nodded slowly, optics gradually gaining back their passionate shine as he watched Breakbrawl animatedly gush about their future journey. The larger bot paused for a moment, glancing at Duster in a silent question.

 

“I heard there’s a small team of Autobots currently stationed on a planet called Earth and that they could use some backup. A change of scenery would be pretty nice, wouldn't it?” Breakbrawl asked with an audible grin, tilting his helm to the side. “Whaddya say, lil buddy? Wanna go on an adventure with me?”

 

Duster gave a short, delighted laugh in response, launching forward to wrap his arms around Breakbrawl’s chassis in a hug.

 

“Absolutely,” he said, burying his helm into the crook of Breakbrawl’s neck with a wide smile.

  
  



End file.
